Nothing Promised No Regrets
by thelilacfield
Summary: He respects himself, he understands now better than he ever has that he can be attractive and that he deserves to have people who believe in his sex appeal, and, honestly, he made sure that his first time was beautiful and perfect and with someone he loved more than anything, someone he trusted, someone he knew loved him just as much. And if he wants to be free now, if he wants to


**Pairing:** Kurt/OCs, Kurt/Blaine

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warnings/Kinks/Tropes:** casual sex, promiscuity, consensual but mutually drunk sex, slut-shaming

**A/N:** This is a fic about Kurt and Blaine working their way back together. However, this is also a fic about the growth of Kurt's sexual confidence. And yes, that means hooking up with people. Title taken from _Voulez Vous_ by ABBA.

* * *

It hurts, saying goodbye to Blaine on a cold morning in those stale days between Christmas and New Year's. Burt is checking in their bags, and Blaine is standing with Kurt, toe tracing along the ground and eyes on the ground, like he doesn't really know what to say. Clearing his throat, Kurt breaks the silence first, murmuring, "I had a great time with you. I...I've missed you."

"Me too," Blaine says quietly, and when he meets Kurt's eyes there are no shields up. He's vulnerable, everything laid out for the whole world to see, and it's almost frightening. Kurt still keeps himself drawn in, closed off from the world, his heart mending, slowly, but when Blaine looks at him like that, sincerity and honesty and truth, he can't help but feel exposed, raw. And that's terrifying.

And if his eyes well up with tears when he hugs Blaine goodbye, then he can blame the ups and downs of the festive season for it all. Blaine squeezes his hand, smiles reassuringly and pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket, pressing it into Kurt's hand and hugging him one more time. They stand like that for a second, swaying gently from side to side, Kurt's arm thrown around Blaine's neck and his face hidden in Blaine's neck, hiding what he's sure is love spelled out on his face, and Blaine's arms wound tightly around Kurt, holding him close. It takes time, trickling quietly past, for them to separate, and as Blaine brushes a kiss against his cheek before moving away completely, Kurt isn't sure whether he wants to push him away or pull him much, much closer.

As it is, he settles for a smile and a shy wave, and Blaine murmurs, "I'll see you soon," before he turns away. It's not goodbye. It never will be.

By the time he gets home, a coffee in one hand and a box of pastries in the other, Rachel is there, running across the apartment with a steaming bowl of pasta in one hand to hug him and kiss him hello, leaving a smear of lipstick on his cheek. "Oh my God, Kurt, I'm so glad you're back, because I just got the most amazing news!" she says, stumbling over her words in her excitement. "Brody called me just as I got home, because he missed me while I was gone, he's such a sweetheart, and then he invited me to a New Year's party! He has all these amazing friends, models and actors and seniors at NYADA, and I can't go to that alone. Do you want to come?"

"Why not?" Kurt says, and Rachel looks surprised at his agreement. "I mean, the last New Year's party I went to was lovely, but it wasn't a good college party. Let's do it."

"Let's coordinate outfits!" Rachel suddenly exclaims, looking as if she's just suddenly realised the meaning of life. "I mean, if we match then people will probably assume we're together, which means they won't hit on me when I want to be with Brody, and they won't hit on you. I mean, are you even ready to get out there again? You said the other week you didn't want another boyfriend."

"I don't," Kurt agrees, and turns away from her and into his room, pulling the curtain across and sitting down on the end of his bed, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging himself in. God, Christmas with Blaine didn't give him any closure at all. All it's done is make him more confused, his feelings a tangle of hurt and want and a petty desire for revenge and love and that horrible empty feeling. He feels broken, and he's trying to put himself back together, but there's a hole in his heart and the only person who can fill it is winging his way back to Ohio.

* * *

"You know Quinn accused me of just rebounding straight onto Brody from Finn?" Rachel asks, her tone scathing, as she stands on her tiptoes to lean in closer to the mirror and fix her eyeliner, trying to angle the lampshade just right. "Isn't that ridiculous? Brody is not a rebound. We have an open, adult relationship and we grew to know each other as friends before deepening our connection."

"Well, he did sleep with Ms. July and you still started dating him," Kurt points out, and immediately silences himself when Rachel gives him a terrifying glare. "Rach, don't you think that matching my shirt to your dress looks a little too...couple-y? I mean, what if Brody gets upset?"

"You're _right_!" Rachel exclaims suddenly, and dashes away. Rolling his eyes, Kurt takes over the mirror in order to style his hair until Rachel returns with a different shirt for him. "There. Now you can just wear those silver cufflinks from the same place as my earrings, and we'll have this tiny sign that we're matching. Remember, if you run into any persistent flirty drunks, just signal and I'll come rescue you." Looking at Kurt as she shakes up a can of hairspray and points it threateningly at her teased-up hair, she asks, "When was the last time you were really drunk?"

"I don't think I've touched anything alcoholic since sophomore year," Kurt says thoughtfully, putting the finishing touches on his hair and flicking a speck of lint off his jeans. "Always the designated driver, that's me. Speaking of which, are you sure Brody's friend can give us a ride home?"

"Yes, Kurt, I triple-checked with him and if he flops then I have money in my purse for a cab, as long as we keep it together enough to remember our address and not throw up on any drivers," Rachel says with a long-suffering but fond roll of her dramatically outlined eyes. "So no downing too much drink just because someone dares you too or whatever, okay? I'll tell your dad tomorrow morning when you have a hangover."

"You say that like he won't be getting crazy with his friends from the garage tonight too," Kurt jokes, and Rachel grins affectionately at him before whipping away in a cloud of perfume.

By the time they've both finished getting ready and Rachel has delayed them in order to be fashionably late and make an entrance, it takes so long to hail what must be the only empty cab that they arrive with the party they've been asked to already in full swing. Digging his nails into Rachel's arm to avoid losing her, Kurt hurries after her when she catches sight of someone she knows and drags him across the room. "Celine, hi!" she shrieks over the music, and the tall blonde girl turns around and screams when she sees Rachel, gathering her up into a hug. Grabbing Kurt by the cuff of his shirt, Rachel shouts, "This is Kurt, my roommate!" and slips an arm around him, practically beaming with pride at getting to show him off.

"Rachel's told me a lot about you!" Celine shouts over the music. "I'm hosting this party, I know Rach here through Brody and you from all her stories. I can't believe you work for Isabelle Wright, what's she really like?"

After her, Kurt feels like he's being thrown from one person to the other, meeting people whose faces blur into one as drink after drink gets pressed into his hand. He downs each one, until the room blurs pleasantly and warmth blooms through his chest and stomach, and he feels light and airy and happy, practically floating. Rachel is nowhere to be seen, probably off somewhere with Brody being a dutiful giggling girlfriend, and when Kurt turns at the sound of her high-pitched drunken laugh he nearly falls over, tripping over someone's feet and watching the floor rush up to meet him.

"Hey, are you okay?" Blinking several times at the floor, Kurt forces himself to look up and smiles into blue eyes and defined biceps. Smiling sleepily and batting his eyelashes several times for good measure, he says, "I'm fine." It comes out much breathier than he intended.

"I'm glad," his saviour says, getting him upright and smiling at him, guiding him out of the crowd before he ends up falling over someone else getting way too excited as they dance. "It would be a tragedy for someone as stunning as you to get hurt."

Kurt lets out a high-pitched and obnoxious giggle and lets the man pull him towards the edges of the room, where the people who are already too drunk to dance are propping up the wall. There's one section of wall that's just couples making out, groping each other and sloppily kissing in a way far too enthusiastic for such a public setting. Girls and girls, guys and girls, guys and guys, and he's pretty sure that there's a trio way over in the darkest corner, and no one is even batting an eyelid. Turning back to the blonde man, and taking a sip of his drink in the hopes of drawing attention to his mouth, he says, "I'd love to know the name of my hero." Again, it comes out breathy, almost wanton.

"James." Smiling at Kurt, he says, "And I know who you are, of course. I saw your performance at NYADA's Winter Showcase on the blogs, it was an extremely controversial issue. I hope you were accepted."

"I was," Kurt says, noticing for the first time how much he's slurring his words. How much has he had to drink? "What do you do?"

"I work backstage in small theatres, building scenery," James says, leaning casually on the wall and stretching his arms above his head, making his shirt rise up to show off a strip of taut, tanned stomach that Kurt wants to lick. He shakes the thought off. He's not supposed to be thinking about men like this, he knows he doesn't want a serious relationship, not for a long while. "I'm one of those men who always scares the actors barking at them to move."

"You must be strong," Kurt says, and this time the breathiness is deliberate. It's blatant flirting, what he's doing, even more so when he squeezes James' bicep and says, "That explains these." James grins at him, and Kurt is about to press further, giddy with delight at his flirting being so easily accepted, when fingers clamp around his wrist and he's pulled away.

"What are you doing?!" he snaps when Rachel brings him to a halt across the room, sweeping her hair out of her face. "I was just talking to him."

"You were flirting, Kurt Hummel, and you know it!" she hisses, even though no one could possibly hear them over the music. "Feeling up his biceps and batting your eyelashes and everything! You said you weren't ready for a serious relationship!"

"Who says I'm looking for a serious relationship?" Kurt spits back at her. "Maybe I'm just looking for something fun and easy. Maybe I just want a hook-up."

"That's not like you!" Rachel insists. "Kurt, you think sex is this amazing thing! Why would you give it away to someone you don't even know?"

"No, I wanted to keep my first time to be this amazing thing with someone I truly loved," Kurt explains, catching James' eye across the room and winking at him. "It's been over a year since my first time, and I want to have some fun. It's not like you're behaving either." He pokes at her neck, and Rachel gives him an affronted glare as she slaps a hand over a cluster of rapidly darkening hickies. "Just leave me alone, and come retrieve me before you decide to go home."

When he weaves through the dancers back to James, he rolls his eyes and offers up the excuse, "Sorry about that, my roommate can get a little weird about protecting my non-existent virtue." James just laughs and pulls Kurt closer, placing a hand low on his back and drawing him in closer. He's taller than Kurt by a few inches, and all Kurt can thinking about is how he'd have to crane up to kiss him, how their bodies would fit together on the dance floor, how James could probably hoist him up against a wall like it was nothing.

"Ten minutes until midnight," James says suddenly, breaking through Kurt's fantasy. "Do you want to spend the last few minutes of 2012 dancing?" Kurt nods eagerly, and James tugs him onto the dance floor, right into the centre, and wraps his arms around Kurt's waist.

Turning slowly in James' arms, Kurt presses his ass back into him, his hips moving in ways he wasn't aware he was capable of, swinging slowly side to side and swivelling back, a heady mixture of arousal and satisfaction sliding sensuously through him when he feels James growing hard against him. "Christ, you're sexy," James murmurs in his ear, kissing softly at his neck, and Kurt practically purrs, letting his head roll back to give James more skin to gently suck. It's not like they're the biggest exhibitionist couple in the room. "Are you interested in anything?"

"Nothing serious," Kurt says, his voice going up in a soft whimper when James bites down on his neck, leaving a mark. "I'm just looking for fun."

"Hey, me too," James says, and pulls Kurt closer, pushing his erection against Kurt's ass. "You want to find somewhere more private to do this?" Looking up at James, his pupils blown out big and black and his expression all desire, Kurt swallows heavily, licks his lip and smiles up from beneath his eyelashes as he nods.

And that's how he ends up in the tiny grubby bathroom, the bass pounding through the floor so hard he can feel it run through his entire body, shoved back against the door with James' mouth absolutely devouring his, his hands squeezing at Kurt's ass and his hips thrusting up against Kurt with such force he's hazily thinking about all the bruises he'll have from being manhandled. He's almost surprised by how much he's into it. Sex with Blaine was never this rough, this primal, this needy. It was never about mere lust with them, but the emotional connection that matched the physical desire. James moves down, mouth latching onto Kurt's neck and sucking in earnest, and Kurt moans, nails scrabbling at James' back as he gives up on trying to stay standing and wraps his legs around James' waist, crossing his ankles just above his ass. "Come on, harder," he whines, and curls his fingers into James' hair as he yanks him in for another hungry kiss.

His mouth is full of James' tongue, James' hands enthusiastically groping his ass and his hard cock driving against Kurt's, sensation like an explosion even through their clothes, and it feels so incredible that Kurt doesn't ever want it to stop. He can hear the countdown outside, waiting for the new year to come, but he's too busy to even think about going out to join the inevitable celebration afterwards. He's drunk enough already, and graduating from vodka and tequila to champagne won't make much different to his raging libido.

James' teeth scrape against Kurt's tongue, sending a shock of heat down his spine, and a particularly hard thrust makes Kurt cry out and come, soaking the front of his jeans, heart pounding and breath coming out ragged and laboured, face burning with heat. He untangles his legs from around James, sagging against the door, and jumps when James kisses at his clothed shoulder, back up to his lips, and growls, "Turn around."

When Kurt does, pressing his blazing-hot cheek against the cool wood, James starts thrusting against his ass, and he whimpers through his teeth, because it feels so good but he can't get hard again. His nails scratch at the door and he huffs out quiet, high-pitched moans as James kisses his neck, arms tightening like bands of steel around him until he lets out a shout and his hips slow, luxuriously drawn-out grinding against Kurt until he stops completely and moves away, breathing heavily. "That was amazing," he says in his hoarse post-sex voice, after long minutes of silence but for their harsh breathing. "Seriously. You are amazing."

"I've heard that before," Kurt says sweetly, splashing cold water on his flushed face and leaning closer to the mirror to fix his hair as much as he can, running his damp fingers through it to flatten the worst parts. "Starting the new year off with a bang."

"Literally," James says in a sex-satisifed purr, and Kurt laughs, turning back towards him. "So, this is kind of awkward, but I've been with too many guys who say they just want some fun and then get upset when I don't respond to further advances. You're definitely not looking for something serious, are you?"

"Absolutely not, I promise," Kurt says, doodling a cross over his heart. "To tell you the truth, I'm still hung up on my ex. Just looking for some fun."

"Well, Kurt Hummel, it was an honour to be your rebound," James says, and Kurt giggles to himself. "Now, do you want to walk out first, or will I take that first step back into the party?"

Kurt leans up to press one last lingering kiss to James' lips and saunters back into the thick of the party, acknowledging the group of men that whoop at him with a saucy wink. He's just about to pick up a glass of champagne when Rachel erupts from the crowd and hauls him away, out of the building and into the cold night air. "Did you have sex with that guy?!" she asks immediately, eyes running all over his face and neck, resting on his swollen lips and dark eyes. "Kurt, I thought you had more self-respect than this! Did you even use a condom?"

"Condoms weren't an issue," Kurt says, holding out his arm to hail down a cab. By the time Rachel reaches the angry drunk stage, it's time to call it a night before she starts breaking things and screaming about stupid petty problems.

"So you didn't sleep with him?" Rachel asks suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at him in a glare as a cab pulls up next to them and they climb in, Rachel tugging her dress down self-consciously and giving the driver a winning smile even as she tries to edge down into her dress and hide the hickies strewn across her neck.

"I didn't say that, I said condoms weren't an issue," Kurt says, and Rachel looks absolutely scandalised. "I didn't do anything risky, Rachel!"

"Having sex with a complete stranger is pretty risky, Kurt!" she snaps. "Tell me three things about the guy who just made you come. Go on."

"His name's James, he keeps up with the NYADA blogs and he builds sets in a theatres," Kurt reels off, and Rachel just huffs out an irritated breath and turns to look out the window, ignoring Kurt even as she pays the driver and sets off at a brisk walk back into the apartment.

Changing into his pyjamas, Kurt curls up under his heavy blankets and looks out at the night, lights blazing and the sky bright with fireworks ringing in the new year. He doesn't regret having sex with James, not one single moment of it. It was fun, it felt good and it made him feel confident. Who says that's a bad thing?

* * *

His phone is ringing. It's like a siren, drilling straight through his pounding head, and he groans into his pillow as he gropes blindly for it, smacking his lips around the stale taste in his mouth. "Hello?" he croaks, and hears a familiar chuckle.

"Can I guess you're feeling similarly hungover right now?" Blaine asks, and Kurt just groans into the phone, rolling onto his back and shielding his eyes against the glare of the lights from the rest of the apartment. Clearly, Rachel isn't happy with him. "What wild party were you at last night, Kurt?"

"God, you sound like my dad," Kurt moans, and Blaine laughs again, rich and happy. "Rachel's boyfriend's friend was throwing a party and I got dragged along. What about you?"

"Sugar threw a party, and I told my parents there would be no alcohol and her parents would be there the whole time," Blaine says, and Kurt knows there's a story coming. "What actually happened was that she'd stayed with the staff while her father took his new girlfriend to Milan over Christmas, and she threw an underwear party with way too much alcohol splashing around. I don't remember very much of what happened last night, but I think I may have seen parts of them I never though I'd see."

"See, I'm the one who hooks up with someone and you still see more skin than I do," Kurt says. "How is that fair?" It's only after a few seconds that his mind catches up with his big mouth, and he quickly adds, "Blaine, don't take that the wrong way."

"Why would I take it the wrong way?" Blaine asks breezily, and Kurt wonders momentarily if that's still the alcohol talking. "We're single, and unlike me, you're in New York where you're far more likely to find someone who's in for casual sex. What was he like?"

It's not Kurt's fault that the only thing he can think to say is, "He had nice arms." And Blaine starts laughing in his ear, and before long Kurt is grinning too, smothering giggles. It's nice, to laugh like this with his best friend over something that silly. "And he'd heard of me. From the NYADA blogs."

"Kurt Hummel, did you sleep with a groupie?" Blaine asks, affecting a scandalised tone, and Kurt smirks to himself. "I am shocked and appalled. What about Rachel? How's she?"

"I think she's pissed with me for abandoning her, but judging by the state of her neck she was getting pretty busy last night," Kurt says, and he can almost see Blaine grin. "I remember her being kinda weird about me picking up some guy. Do you think there's something wrong with it?"

"No, nothing's wrong with that, Kurt, don't let her tell you otherwise," Blaine says gently. "It's just a bit of fun, right? I mean, if you're not ready for anything more serious, there's nothing wrong with playing the field a little. Just tell me about all the guys you find, okay? Especially the bad ones."

"I promise," Kurt says with a smile. This is what best friends do, openly talk about sex and boys and cruising around town looking for someone to hook up with. "And you need to return the favour if you're with anyone, okay? I wanna hear about what Ohio has to offer and see if I missed any particularly juicy opportunities."

"I doubt it," Blaine says scathingly, and Kurt smiles. "Okay, I have to go, my parents are home and I have to pretend to be their dutiful son who is definitely not supremely hungover. I'll talk to you as soon as I can, okay?"

"Call me," Kurt says, and Blaine sings a few lines of that insufferable song before he hangs up and Kurt stretches out the kinks in his back, swinging his legs off the bed and reaching for his robe. He doesn't even get a chance to stand up before his curtain is whipped open and Rachel is standing there, her arms folded over her chest, yesterday's make-up still smeared around her eyes and her hair pulled into a tangled ponytail. "Good morning sunshine," Kurt says sweetly, and that makes her nostrils flare with rage. "Rach, lighten up. Why are you even mad at me?"

"I'm not mad," Rachel snaps, and Kurt rolls his eyes at her penchant for dramatics as he follows her into the kitchen, eyeing the cooking omelettes with interest. "I just want to know what would possess a person to hook up with someone they met a maximum of an hour before."

"What would possess a person to get together with a man who slept with their teacher?" Kurt shoots back scathingly, and Rachel slams the fridge door shut, making all the jars rattle together. "It's my life, Rachel, butt out. Even Blaine is happy to talk about it with me, how can you be less accepting than my ex?"

Rachel finally turns to look at him, a sweet but transparently fake smile on her face, and reaches out to touch his arm as she says, "Sweetie, I'm just being a good friend and looking out for you. I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"I'm not going to get hurt, I know exactly what I'm getting myself into," Kurt says with a shrug. "I'm not looking for anything serious. A lot of people aren't. And everyone keeps telling me being single in New York is the greatest thing in the world, why shouldn't I be taking advantage of that?"

He can practically hear Rachel sighing heavily at him, and almost says, "Thank _God_!" aloud when his phone ringing breaks the tension. Checking the caller ID, his brow furrows when he sees that Santana is calling him for possibly the first time since they saw each when McKinley performed Grease, and answers with, "Did you accidentally butt dial me?"

"No, I just saw on Facebook that you were at a crazy college party last night from the pictures some NYADA girl tagged of you and Rachel," Santana says. "You're talking to some hot guy in one of them. Did you hit that?"

"I'm going to be straight on there telling her to untag them, but yes, I did," Kurt says, and Santana whoops in his ear.

"Damn, Hummel, and here I thought you were all for monogamy," Santana says, and Kurt can hear the pride shining out in her voice. "I'm so proud, your first hook-up! Does this mean I can start teaching you all my secret moves? I could be your flirting Jedi Master."

"Stars Wars references?" Kurt asks, smiling into the phone as Rachel shoves a plate into his hand with a huff. "Let me guess, you watched them with Brittany?"

"I dated Sam for about three weeks, honey, I did what I had to to get laid," Santana says, and Kurt laughs. "So, when can I come visit and compare notes with you? Don't tell anyone, but I miss you two and your crazy and your uncomfortable platonic marriage vibe."

"We miss you too. You can come visit whenever you want, we've already had Finn and my dad and Blaine and a bunch of Rachel's college friends through here," Kurt says, and Rachel glares at him again. He moves away from her, going into his room and closing the curtain, keeping his voice low as he asks, "Santana...how many people have you hooked up with since Brittany?"

"Three, I think, unless you count kissing some hot random in exchange for them giving me money for the bus as a hook-up, and I don't," Santana says. "After the end I was upset and I missed her and I needed somewhere to put all my desires so I didn't pick up the phone."

"And you don't think there's anything wrong with that?"

"No, why? Did Blaine say something, because if he did I'm going to-"

"No, no!" Kurt cuts in hastily before Santana can say exactly what she'll do. He never knows what to expect with her, but he expects it'll be violent and gory and told to him in excruciating detail. "Blaine's cool with it, he even encouraged me to go for it with more guys and tell him about it. It's Rachel. She's making it pretty obvious that she doesn't approve."

"Oh who cares what she thinks? She lied about losing her virginity to make a guy jealous, she wanted to have sex so she'd play a role more convincingly and she's shacked up with some guy she met as he left the shower, it's not like she's in any position to judge your sexual exploits," Santana says, and Kurt giggles despite himself. "Seriously, Kurt, you are living the single life. Enjoy it, because we all know you and Blaine are going to get your shit together eventually."

"What about you and Brittany?" Kurt asks as he sips at his coffee. If Santana is going to make such bold statements about the current status of his relationship with Blaine, then he has to ask about hers. "Do you think a reunion is on the cards? Blaine told me she's thrown herself in off the deep end with Sam."

"No, no, I think it's over between us," Santana says with a heavy, sad sigh. "It's just too hard, you know. So much crap in our history and neither of us really made for long distance relationships. You know, Kurt, for what it's worth, we all thought you and Blaine would be the ones to make it. We still think so."

Glancing at the picture of Blaine still on his nightstand, at a party in Sugar's pool during the summer after graduation, grinning at the camera, Kurt smiles softly. "So, tell me, what are Santana Lopez's secret moves?"

"An in-person demonstration works best, I'll show you next time I'm up there," Santana says. "But first, I need to gauge how you're doing alone. What did you do to get this guy?"

"Nothing, really," Kurt says, and Santana makes a pointed noise. "I smiled, I batted my eyelashes, I felt up his biceps and there was some grinding on the dance floor. Really, nothing much."

"Well, I doubt your package needs any bows on it," Santana says, and Kurt just knows she winks as she says it. "Make sure you keep a record of who you sleep with. It helps to be able to whip an experience out on cue if you sleep with someone who's into that. So are you going to do it again?"

Clutching the phone against his ear, Kurt wonders if he will. He remembers the speech his father gave him, so long ago it feels like a lifetime, telling him not to throw himself around. But he doesn't feel like he's disrespecting himself. He respects himself, he understands now better than he ever has that he can be attractive and that he deserves to have people who believe in his sex appeal, and, honestly, he made sure that his first time was beautiful and perfect and with someone he loved more than anything, someone he trusted, someone he knew loved him just as much. And if he wants to be free now, if he wants to have fun and flirt and enjoy being single, then he can. And screw what people think - what _Rachel_ thinks.

"I am," he says, and pushes a hand through his wild hair. "I'll talk to you soon, okay? I have to try and patch things up with Rachel."

"Rather you than me," Santana says, and is gone. Draining his coffee mug, Kurt goes to get dressed before he glimpses himself in the mirror for the first time since he got home. There are hickies bitten into his neck and shoulders, and when he turns around and twists to see his back in the mirror he notices bruises there too. He presses his thumb into one close to his ass, and shivers at the rush of sensation. It hurts, but it's not a bad hurt. Really, it makes him want to make sure that marks like these never fade.

He wants more.


End file.
